A Meaningless Word Like Honor
by ChuckyDoll
Summary: What if Jonas and Claire met while in the Communities? What paths would their lives take?
1. Chapter 1

_"I would have gone with you, if I'd known. Things would be different now if I had." […] "I wish–" But then she fell silent._  
–Son, Part 3: Beyond, Chapter 6, Lowry

* * *

Claire had been crying that day. No one knew why, and it was better that way, as far as Claire had been concerned. She didn't need people asking why she was so upset. If she had been asked, and required to tell the truth, she would have to tell them how much she had bonded with little Number Thirty-Six, why, out of all the newchildren, she had sought _him_ out, she would have to explain her past as a Birthmother, and she would have to reveal her own failure. Being given the assignment of Birthmother was already enough shame to harbor, but to manage to _fail_ at such a simple assignment? That would be close to unspeakable.

Of course, being a Birthmother was not nearly as simple as everyone assumed. No one knew the swelling of her abdomen, the difficulty of catching even a little sleep, the nausea in the early months, nor the final pain of childbirth. How would she explain the camaraderie between the Birthmothers to those who had never been part of it? There was too much to explain, and Claire wouldn't be able to do so without confusing anyone who asked about it.

She stopped by the river on her way back to the Fish Hatchery when she saw Jonas solemnly staring at the river. Typically, citizens of the community would nod to acknowledge one another, but Jonas didn't seem to realize that she was there, right beside him. She guessed that he was deep in thought, though she didn't understand why someone so young would be that, and she wondered what was troubling him at that exact moment. Remembering her own confusing feelings concerning her son, she didn't want to return to the Hatchery right away, so she remained by Jonas's side at the river, both of them ignoring each other.

Claire didn't know how much time had passed before Jonas turned his head slightly to the right and noticed that she had been crying. Jonas had snapped out of his thoughts and studied the older girl in the Fish Hatchery uniform. Had he seen her sometime before? He couldn't remember, but she looked vaguely familiar. She looked different, too, he realized.

Jonas immediately noticed her red hair and green eyes, neither of which were common in here, and wondered if he was related to Fiona somehow. If that wasn't unusual enough, she looked like she had been weeping. Hardly anyone, except for newchildren, cried in the community. What could possibly have been bothering her?

Both Claire and Jonas peered at each other's nametags before they made eye contact. Claire didn't dare ask him anything, especially considering the fact that she hardly knew him. She only knew that he was the Nurturer's son, he had a little sister named Lily, and that he was singled out during the last annual ceremony. She couldn't remember what assignment he had, exactly, but she remembered that all of her peers were confused by his "selection." Claire wasn't sure how to start any sort of conversation with this male. Luckily, he spoke first.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Suddenly, Claire remembered what Jonas had been selected for. _Receiver_, she thought. She realized she had heard the term "Receiver" before, back when she still lived with her parents. At some point, she couldn't remember how old she was at the time, they had all received a reminder through the speaker that one must answer the Receiver with complete honesty at all times. She couldn't remember whether or not this applied to one in training, but she assumed it was, and she wasn't sure how serious her punishment would be if he found out she had been lying.

"No," she replied, not prepared to provide clarification if he had asked for it.

"What's wrong?" Jonas asked.

Claire couldn't even begin to explain. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to cry, and the more she cried, the more difficult it would be to explain herself. She remembered that his father was a Nurturer and, if Jonas said anything about Claire during the Sharing Of Feelings, the Nurturer might get her banned from the Nurturing Center. How could she be sure that she could trust him?

"Claire," he said. "Is that right?"

She nodded.

"My father mentioned you, once," Jonas added. "You spend some free time at the Nurturing Center."

"Yeah," she replied, trying to control her own shaky voice. "Sometimes I help with Number 36," she added, careful not to say what she thought was her son's name.

Jonas chuckled. "He's a cute male. Sometimes he babbles and reaches for things. Mother gets annoyed, though."

They both paused and looked out at the planes, which were landing for the night. Both of them remembered their days as children, when they would take bicycle rides by the river and watch the planes with awe during their free time. Now that it was close to evening, there were hardly any children by the river engaging in such a pastime. It was only Jonas and Claire at the river now, and both of them thought they should get going, but neither of them moved an inch. Jonas couldn't stop wondering what was troubling Claire and Claire couldn't stop thinking of her growing son.

"Just out of curiosity," Jonas said. "Why did you go to the Nurturing Center? Why now?"

"Thirty six," she muttered under her breath, her voice growing shakier.

Jonas tried to put together what he knew about Claire: she had come here crying, she knew his dad, she volunteered at the Nursery in her free time, and she did it for the little male his father brought home each night. So far, he couldn't think of anything, other than that Claire must have really liked the babbling little guy, and he couldn't understand why a regular community citizen would cry over that. Unless…

"Do you take the pills?" he blurted out.

"Excuse me?!" Claire reacted, surprised that Jonas would ask such a personal question, but she then realized she had to answer. "I... uh… no."

_That makes much more sense_, Jonas thought to himself. He wondered why Claire was off her pill, if she had ever started it to begin with. He guessed that she was old enough to have started taking it by now, but he couldn't be sure if she ever started taking them. If she did, what made her stop?

"Never?" he asked.

"Never," she replied.

Claire realized that the Fish Hatchery workers would be wondering why she came back so late, and if she stayed outside with Jonas anymore, the Director would start asking questions. Quickly, she kicked the stand that held her bike upright and got on the seat, much to Jonas's dissatisfaction. Jonas realized that he, too, must return home soon, but he knew that he wouldn't be questioned as harshly as Claire would if she were late. Just before she put her foot on the pedal, Jonas called her, not sure what he wanted to say.

"Claire!"

She stopped immediately.

"Um… are you going to be okay?" he asked.

Though Claire knew she couldn't lie to Jonas, she did so anyway, just this one time. "Yeah. I will."

Jonas watched as Claire rode away. Only after Claire was out of his sight did he mount his bicycle and ride home, thinking of his interaction with this strange girl and of what her relationship must have been like with his father and with Gabe. Even during his homework assignments, the Evening Meal, and the Sharing of Feelings, Jonas could only think about the older weeping girl by the river and the creeping suspicion that there was more to her than anyone knew. He had only listened to Father's sharing when he mentioned Claire, hoping to gain more insight as to who she was, but his contribution offered little more than what Jonas knew already. At one end of the table, little Gabe would perk up and babble every time his name was mentioned, and Jonas would stare at him, wondering why Claire had grown so attached. That night, Jonas went to bed, staring at the ceiling and entertaining only a single thought.

_I must know more about Claire._


	2. Chapter 2

"Giver," Jonas asked after a hard day of training. "Can I ask you something?"

The question wasn't really necessary; the Giver always allowed questions. Jonas just wasn't really sure if he could ask the Giver about any one particular person. He wanted to ask about Claire, whom he had been thinking about all day, and wondered if the Giver knew anything about her. Jonas doubted it at first, for the Giver couldn't possibly be bothered with every single detail about every individual in the community, but he decided to ask anyway.

Jonas put on his tunic, which had been thrown on the floor before his training session, and used his sleeve to wipe some of the sweat off his face. Today's latest memory had taken place in a desert and Jonas could still feel the sting left by the hot sun on his skin. His legs ached from a previous memory, so he carefully positioned them on the bed to reduce the pain. He took deep breaths and allowed the newly received memories to fade until he was no longer conscious of them.

"Questions are always allowed," the Giver replied, smiling as if he was stating the obvious (which he was).

"I met a young woman yesterday," Jonas said. "Her name is Claire. She works at the Fish Hatchery. She has reddish hair, kind of like Fiona."

"What's your question?" the Giver asked.

Jonas sighed. "She sometimes volunteers at the Nursery in her free time and works with my father. I wanted to know more about her."

The Giver folded his hands in his lap and gave it some thought. Jonas wondered if there really was a reason to get more information about Claire. Why was he so curious about her? He thought about yesterday's conversation about little Gabe and about her teary green eyes. Why was she crying? Why would _anyone_ cry in the communities?

"Any particular reason why?"

Jonas decided to tell the Giver everything, thinking that hopefully, the Giver could help him sort out his feelings.

"I met her yesterday, by the river," Jonas replied. "She was crying, but I don't know why. She said she doesn't take the pills and, I admit, I haven't been either, for the past couple of weeks."

"Anything else that you already know?"

Jonas shrugged. "She seems to really care about Gabe."

"Number 36."

Jonas nodded.

The Giver looked around the room and his eyes settled on the speaker, which was turned off, as usual. Jonas had grown accustomed to the ability to turn the speaker on and off, the privilege of a locked door, and the privacy they were afforded. He started to wonder what other privileges came with his assignment as the Receiver.

His thoughts were cut short when the Giver, who was now standing by the speaker, turned to Jonas and caught his attention.

"You wanted to know more about Claire, is that right?"

Jonas nodded.

The Giver flipped on the speaker and it emitted a brief static noise before Jonas heard the voice of the attendant. Both males heard the attendant clear her throat before she addressed them in a typical, professional manner.

"Hello, Receiver," she said.

"Hello, attendant," he replied. "May you retrieve the private files of an individual named Claire? She works at the Fish Hatchery."

"Of course, Receiver," she responded. "Thank you for your instructions."

The Giver turned the speaker off and sat on the luxurious chair in front of the polished desk where he did his work. He looked through some old files that had been there since Jonas came in this afternoon, humming something Jonas never heard before. Jonas wondered how long it would take for the attendant to retrieve the files containing Claire's information. He hoped the attendant didn't mistakenly retrieve every file that pertained to Claire's childhood or something. He had only cared to know about the present.

"Do you know anything about Claire?" he asked the Giver.

The Giver shrugged. "I see her from time to time, as I do with the other people, but I don't know everyone intimately."

"So we can just get any private file we want?" Jonas asked.

The Giver nodded. Jonas tried to imagine what sort of private files he would look through in the future. There were security tapes he could watch if he wanted to, information about Releases, and other things. Could there be more private information about other communities that he could look through? He wasn't sure exactly what he would want it for right now, but he was sure that access to such material could come in handy in the future.

It wasn't too long before the attendant knocked on the locked door. The Giver massaged his legs briefly and got up to unlock the large door. He opened it slightly, allowing the attendant to slip her hand in so he could take the file, which wasn't as large as Jonas expected. The attendant withdrew her hand and the Giver shut and locked the door. He turned to Jonas, his hand extended and holding the file, and nodded toward the object Jonas had requested. Obediently, Jonas got up, took it, and sat down on the bed where he normally did his training. He flipped open the file and was surprised by what he saw.

"Assigned Birthmother at the Ceremony of Twelve," Jonas read aloud. "But she's a Fish Hatchery worker now. She doesn't seem old enough to have already had three newchildren."

The Giver, who had returned to his chair, propped his head up with his hand. Jonas could see that the Giver was rather tired. The old man let out a sigh, letting his apprentice know that he was only vaguely interested in what Jonas was reading.

"She had Product Number 36 through c-section and was reassigned…" Jonas read on. "Wait. Number 36. Gabriel!"

The Giver perked up.

"She's Gabe's mother!" Jonas exclaimed.

"Your new friend seems very interesting," the Giver replied. Jonas couldn't tell whether or not the Giver was being sarcastic.

Jonas set the file aside and stood up excitedly. His legs no longer ached, his skin no longer stung, and he was filled with hope for what could become of his new friendship with Claire. She was off her pill, she was the mother of Gabe, she regularly sees him…

Could she _love_ Gabe?

"She's Gabe's _mother_," Jonas replied. "She was crying yesterday, but I didn't know why, and she said she only goes to the Nursery for Gabe. There has to be _something_!"

The Giver didn't share Jonas's optimism. He let out a deep breath and motioned for Jonas to sit back down on the bed. Jonas knew this would be like all the other times the Giver had shown Jonas that something was utterly hopeless, such as trying to get his friends, Asher and Fiona, to understand the things he saw. However, Jonas couldn't shake the feeling that this time would be different.

"Jonas," the Giver said. "There are no guarantees. Whatever you're hoping for with Claire is unlikely, so I suggest you don't pursue this."

"All right," Jonas sighed, feigning disappointment. "I'll give this file back to the attendant and I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Just as Jonas got the file and went for the door, the Giver stood up and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Jonas turned and saw the Giver's weary expression. The Giver briefly closed his eyes and squeezed the boy's shoulder affectionately.

"I don't mean to make you feel as if this is all hopeless, Jonas," the Giver said, letting go of Jonas's shoulder. "I just don't want you to be disappointed after hoping for something."

"I understand," Jonas replied.

Jonas left that room and handed the file to the attendant, whom he said goodbye to, while thinking about everything the Giver said. As he always did, Jonas disregarded the Giver's warnings and decided to pursue a possible friendship with Claire, hoping to confirm his suspicions that Claire might feel as deeply as he feels. The circumstances were too uncanny for Claire _not_ to feel in such a manner. Jonas couldn't stand the thought of letting this chance slip away. He just couldn't.

Jonas was determined to prove the Giver wrong. He knew what he had to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Claire was pleasantly surprised when the speaker declared that there was an unscheduled holiday, as many of her other fellow workers were. Dimitri, the Fish Hatchery Director, busied himself with instructing the substitute laborers for the more menial tasks while the lower level workers took the opportunity to enjoy the unexpected break from their typical duties. Claire planned to see her little son, who was probably with the Nurturer who had been so fond of him, and hoped that the two would be easy to find. She said goodbye to her coworkers and set out to find the toddler when she ran into Jonas.

"Oh, hello," Claire greeted.

"Hey, Claire," Jonas replied. "There's someone I want you to meet."

"Who?"

Jonas looked in the direction of the House of the Old. "Follow me."

Before Claire could object, Jonas mounted his bicycle and rode toward the building near the river, and Claire paused, thinking of her chance to spend the day with her son. She decided there was plenty of time today and hoped that her meeting this new person would only take a little bit. After Jonas was ten feet away, Claire mounted her own bike and pedaled, catching up to him but staying a little bit behind him. Together, they rode toward the House of the Old, speeding past the others, who were involved in several different types of games, and they parked their bicycles in the appropriate ports. Claire wondered whom in the House of the Old she was going to meet when she saw Jonas motioning her to follow him.

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked.

"Behind this building," Jonas replied, pointing to the House of the Old.

"Who am I going to meet?" she asked.

"You'll see."

She followed him to the back of the building and noticed a door with a buzzer. Above the door, a sign read, "Annex." Jonas first pressed the buzzer, but got no response, so he simply opened the door and let Claire in. Claire looked around, seeing that the room was rather empty, except for a single desk at the back of the room and a door to the side.

"What is this place?" Claire asked.

"The lobby," he responded. "The attendant must have been given holiday."

Jonas looked around the desk, most likely looking for something, and Claire watched him give up and knock on the door in the wall. Jonas stepped back, giving room for the door to open, and waited for some sort of response. Claire stared at the door.

"Why don't you just open it?" she asked.

"It's locked. I suppose you could unlock it from outside; the attendant does it."

"Locked?!" Claire replied, shocked. "Why would one need a locked door? Is that even allowed?"

Jonas had already looked through the items on the attendant's desk and flipped a switch that unlocked the large door to Claire's right. Jonas backed away from the desk, pulled the door open, and peered into the room, only to back away startled when he heard a rather irritated voice.

"Jonas?" the voice asked. "What are you doing? Why did you unlock my door? It's a holiday."

"I know it's holiday," Jonas replied. "I want you meet someone."

Claire heard a groan from the room and stepped toward Jonas, looking at the seemingly elderly man, clothed in a white robe, and at the strange room he occupied. She noticed the curved legs attached to the desk, the luxurious upholstered chairs and sofa, and the numerous books that lined up the walls. The man didn't seem particularly pleased to see her and Claire started to wish she hadn't come here. She stepped away from Jonas and in the direction of the other door, but Jonas protested.

"Claire, please stay."

"I really shouldn't have bothered," Claire sighed. "It's obvious he'd rather not, Jonas."

"Claire, don't, and," Jonas stammered. "Giver, please."

Claire paused to see what "Giver's" response would be. She heard another groan and wondered if he was in pain. If so, he could ask for pain medication, and if the pain was as unbearable as the pain of childbirth, she could do it for him.

"Giver," she asked. "Would you like some pain medication?"

"No," the old man groaned before clearing his throat. "Come inside, since you're already here. Both of you."

Jonas let Claire into the Giver's room and closed the door behind him. Claire stood and watched Jonas sit on the sofa while the Giver sat on the chair near his desk. On his desk, there was a steaming bowl of soup. Its scent filled the room, making Claire hungry, but she did not request food yet. She had the rare chance of meeting this obviously honored man and she didn't want to ruin her first meeting by asking him for a meal.

Claire noticed the speaker on the wall with a switch that allowed one to turn it on and off, which surprised her, but she didn't comment on it. There were obviously bigger things to talk about. Jonas wouldn't have brought her here otherwise.

"Jonas has told me a little bit about you," the old man said. "Particularly your interest in a certain newchild born last year. Number 36."

Claire's heart froze. The Giver probably knew that Claire was his birthmother and would have her banned from the Nurturing Center. She would never see her son again. She couldn't think of anything worse than the possibility of losing him. What could she do? Lie? He could probably check her files if he suspected her of lying. Then, she'd be doubly in trouble.

"Gabe," the Giver said.

_Oh,_ she thought,_ I thought his name was Abe._

"Your son, right?"

All Claire could do was nod weakly. She thought it odd that the Giver didn't use "product" or "newchild." He had specifically used "son." What could the Giver be thinking?

"Odd, how a birthmother purposely sought out her own son," he sighed. "Odd _now_, at least," he muttered.

The Giver then looked at Claire. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

Claire obliged and sat on the sofa next to Jonas. She folded her hands in her lap, tracing over her own fingers nervously, and watched the Giver's oddly agile movements as he turned his chair around to face them.

"I suppose I could see why you looked for him," the Giver spoke. "Tell me what you feel for him."

Claire noticed Jonas looking at her, as if he expected a certain answer, and avoided eye contact with this strange man. Her heart felt heavy and heated and she felt blood rush through her body everywhere. Her stomach, too, was in knots.

"I don't know, exactly," she admitted. "Fondness."

The man nodded. "Do you think other people feel this… fondness?"

"I don't know, exactly," she replied. "I asked my coworkers if their mothers ever felt fondness for their siblings. It didn't seem like it. I don't think they knew what I was talking about."

The Giver chuckled, which made her uneasy. "I think I know. Jonas does, too. This fondness that you speak of has been done away with. Do you take the pill?"

"No," Claire replied. "I've never been put on it."

"That should explain some of it," the Giver replied. "This fondness you're experiencing for your son once had a name, but the word is… obsolete."

"How do you know this fondness?" Claire asked the Giver a little nervously.

The Giver scratched his chin and stared to the side. He let out a grunt and massaged his leg, wincing, before he took another bite of his soup. The soup had chilled quite a bit since Claire first entered the room, but she could still smell it.

"I feel it," he said. "Jonas is like a son to me. I'm sure Jonas feels it too."

Jonas nodded in confirmation.

"And I felt it for my daughter," the Giver let slip. "Just as you feel it for your son."

"You had a daughter?" Jonas asked.

The Giver shook his head. "That discussion is for another day. Let's talk about you, Claire."

"I didn't know you had a daughter," Jonas muttered.

"Claire," the Giver spoke loudly, changing the subject. "How you've managed to… hmm… stay under the radar is a bit impressive."

"What do you mean?" Claire asked.

The Giver was now pacing around his room, going back and forth in front of the sofa, his hand on his neck. Both Jonas and Claire watched him. Claire wondered why an elderly man could be so agile, as those his age would normally be slower in their movements, and thought that there was much more to this man than meets the eye.

"The authorities are ignoring you."

"You're an authority," Claire replied. "Besides, no one cares to watch over an ex-Birthmother."

"Ha!" the Giver laughed. "You keep doing what you're doing. While you're at it, feel free to visit any time, in case you need anyone to talk about this… fondness."

"Thank you," Claire said.

Claire looked at the clock and realized that she had spent more time here than she intended. She got off the sofa and walked halfway toward the door before she turned around to say goodbye to the Giver.

"I hope you don't mind me leaving," Claire told him. "I have to make time for my son."

"I understand," he replied. "Have a good day."

"You too," she said.

Claire left the room, feeling elated that, finally, someone could help her sort out her feelings toward her son. For once, she didn't feel so terribly alone.


End file.
